


Tickling

by Satine86



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Humor, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 13:57:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/825065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Satine86/pseuds/Satine86
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Garrus makes an interesting discovery about the amazing Commander Shepard… she’s rather ticklish.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tickling

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes my brain ponders weird things… and when I can’t find fic for it, I write my own.

It was quiet, peaceful--which unnerved him. Of course the realization that his life had descended into endless madness where getting shot at daily was his sense of ‘normal’, unnerved him even more.

Best not to think on it over much.

Sighing, Garrus settled himself back against the cushions of the couch in Shepard’s quarters… trying to be content with the quiet. Looking over the datapad in hand, he moved her foot on his lap. She twitched, toes flexing.

“Don’t,” she muttered absently, eyes glued to a shipping report.

“Don’t what?”

“Do that.”

Garrus had no idea what “that” was. Move? He waited a moment, perfectly still. When Shepard didn’t say anything further, he shook his head and turned back to his datapad. It was sometime later when he was forced to move again, shifting his leg to get more comfortable.

Again he adjusted Shepard’s foot, and again she twitched, a little more noticeably this time, her toes wiggling.

“Garrus!” she hissed, looking over the top of the report. “Don’t do that!” she warned, this time withdrawing the foot from his reach, tucking it underneath herself.

“I’m not doing anything, Shepard.”

“You’re tickling me, knock it off.”

His pulled his head back, confused. “Doing what?” he blinked at her.

“Tickling me--” she stopped, eyeing him, then snorted loudly in disbelief. “Of course, you damned turians aren’t ticklish.”

Shepard sighed, ran a hand through her hair, mouth crooked as she thought. “Okay, so tickling is, uh, it’s involuntary. Someone will just lightly touch you certain places and it just…  _tickles_. Some people are more sensitive than others. You can’t really help the reaction, like you might twitch or giggle.”

“So it’s nice? If you laugh?”

“It’s not  _bad_  per se, but it’s not wholly pleasant… yet it is.” Her face was drawn up in a grimace as she floundered for words. “It’s teasing.”

“Teasing,” he repeated, mulling it all over. “Interesting.” And it was, though this particular bit of interesting was going to be tucked away in the ‘humans are a fucking weird species’ file.

“So you’re very ticklish then?”

“I am… not.” She sat up a bit straighter and tried to look serious, which meant she was lying. Garrus tilted his head, regarding her for a moment, then hummed gently.

“Don’t you fucking dare--” her threat ended on a shriek as his hand darted forward, gripping her ankle, running a talon down the sole of her foot. She tried to jerk back, but his hold was firm. Her toes curled and flexed, fingers digging into the cushions as she tried to escape.

“I will kick you in your damned face if you don’t stop that!” She gasped between helpless giggles, voice unusually high.

“Interesting,” he muttered again. Then he looked up and caught her eye, mandibles twitching in amusement. He let go of her foot and she, true to her word, kicked him lightly in the face. “Bastard.”

“Sorry, Shepard, just doing a little research.” Humming, Garrus looked her over, filing this entire experience away -- most importantly her reaction. “You said ‘places’, does that mean you’re ticklish elsewhere?”

“Oh ho! Oh no you don’t.” She scooted away from him and stood up, waggling a finger. “You just get the hell away from me, big guy. We’re not playing this game.”

“Research, Shepard. Need to learn all the little things, don’t want any interspecies awkwardness.” He levered himself up, stepping toward her.

“Stand down, Vakarian!” she ordered, back straight, voice low. However, they were off duty and he wasn’t about to listen to her. Even if she was Commander Fucking Shepard, right now she was just his girlfriend.

“So…” he drawled, continuing his advance. Shepard continued to back away slowly, he knew she had multiple ways of a proper escape, but she didn’t take a single one. He took that as a good sign. “It appears humans are usually ticklish on their feet, ribs and the back of the knees?”

“I hate that goddamned visor. New rule, it comes off the second you step into my quarters, is that clear?” This time she pulled out the tone she used with the council, trying to get them to understand through sheer force of will. He still wasn’t fazed.

Shepard came up short as she backed into the far wall. “If you tickle me again you’re going to be in for a world of hurt, Vakarian.”

“Promises, promises.” He stopped, looming over her, laughing as she glared up him balefully.

“You think you’re so damned cute.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“I’ve been told as much… once or twice.” He leaned in close, nose nearly touching hers. “When it’s the great Commander Shepard saying it, who am I to argue?”

“I hate you,” she huffed, looking away.

“I’m hurt.”

“Good.”

He chuckled, mandibles flaring. Quick as he could he reached out, tracing down her sides with just enough pressure to be felt through her fatigues. She squirmed and tried to slap his hands away.

“I don’t like this! Stop it!” She shrieked, voice even higher than before. “This isn’t fair, I can’t retaliate!”

“You don’t like teasing? Funny I could’ve sworn…”

“Not like this!” She finally succeeded in batting his hands away, wiggling out from where he’d had her pinned against the wall. She retreated quickly, moving so the bed was between them. “This is just mean. You are a mean, mean turian!” In a completely uncharacteristic and absurdly childish move, she pouted at him.

He burst out laughing, the sound reverberating off the ceiling. She grabbed a pillow and threw it with all her might, hitting him square in the face.

Garrus snorted and held up his hands. “Fine, no more tickling.”

Shepard straightened slightly, as if she was shocked he’d given up so easily, then nodded. “Good.”

She stepped out from behind the bed, meaning to retrieve her long forgotten report, but Garrus darted forward again, gripping her wrist. Without further warning, his other arm snaked around her waist and he tossed her on the bed.

“You said no more tickling!”

“No more tickling,” he agreed. “However, there are other things we can do. Things we both find enjoyable.”

“Oh, well.” She looked up at him, eyes hooded. “By all means, carry on, officer.”


End file.
